Artificial Snow
by UnluckyAmulet
Summary: - Gin x Matsumoto - She had always hoped, secretly, that he would one day return to her. But never like this...


**Disclaimer:** I do not own Bleach.

**Author's Note:** This is a story I've had in mind for a while, but it's been quite a difficult one to write. (I spent a ridiculously long time just trying to figure out the _title._) All my previous attempts were too short or didn't quite have the right tone, so I'm glad to finally get this down. It is an AU, sort of deals with what would happen if Rangiku became an Arrancar and met Gin again in Hueco Mundo.

Main pairing: Gin x Matsumoto. Because they are one of my favourite angsty pairings and need love. Side pairings include slight UlquiHime and GrimMatsu, plus hinted Gin pairings. A couple of lyrics from Cosmic Love by Florence + The Machine scattered about, but this is not a songfic.

Enjoy!

* * *

Matsumoto Rangiku can't remember her own death too well.

All she remembers is hearing somebody screaming her name as a sword sliced through her neck in one swift, precise movement, the silver of the blade flashing. Then it's black, presumably because her brain shut down, as her body desperately fought to keep her breathing, to stop the blood. Oddly, she can still remember the scent of her own blood vividly- a strange salty, metallic smell, like rusting metal combined with something unidentifiable.

How she knew, automatically, that she was dying, and yet was so calm, she couldn't be sure.

Matsumoto didn't know she had that kind of strength.

When she wakes up, quite unexpectedly, she still has the dim, flickering hope that she was rescued in time, that the dreams off falling into black spaces were really only dreams. This hope is promptly crushed when she feels the remains of her Hollow mask on her face, fingers tracing the sculpted bone.

Her movements are slow, languid. She moves as if sleepwalking, too dizzy and strangely exhausted. Her body feels numb.

Matsumoto is also aware of another presence in the white room, but she chooses to ignore it. She's more interested in examining her own body, searching for new changes that have occurred with her own death.

She discovers her Hollow mask, resting on her cheekbones, spreading along the back of her head, behind her ears and joining up again on her throat. It doesn't look as odd as she expects it to. If she didn't have her wispy, pre-death memories to go by, she might even have thought she always had it. Her Hollow hole is not so easy to accept- it wasn't exactly easy to find, nestled between her (still) ridiculously-large breasts, but she could still feel the absence of...something. And it freaked her out a little, actually.

"So, I'm dead." Matsumoto murmurs, almost to herself. It is not a question.

The other presence in the room shifts, and an all-too-familiar figure looms behind her.

"Ya were already dead, Matsumoto," Gin points out.

Matsumoto throws him a sharp, calculating look, about a thousand things crawling up her throat, clamouring to be said first. For him to be here, smile glinting in the darkness, makes everything feel more dreamlike then ever.

She should be angry. Furious, even. How dare he stand here, smiling his omnipresent smile, as though nothing has happened, as though no time has passed between them?

But Matsumoto has never been quite able to stomp out that naïve, wistful little part of her that had always hoped that one day, she'd be with Gin again. And everything is happening too quickly, too much. There are so many emotions thrumming through her, they seem to merge together to make her feel blank, drugged.

"That's not what I mean," she tells him, slowly.

Gin smiles wider, slowly approaching her with almost a predatory grace. But Shinsou lies docile on his hip, so she merely watches him sedately.

"I know what'cha mean," he says, nuzzling up to her, which she only allows because she's too stunned to lash out, "But don't be afraid, Rangiku. You're one of us now,"

Matsumoto wants to contradict him, to tell him that she was never afraid. But that would be lying, and Gin knows her too well.

* * *

Hueco Mundo is cold.

You would expect deserts to be hot, but with no sun to warm it, Matsumoto feels as though she's stranded within an ocean of sand. The other Arrancar don't seem to particularly care about the temperate. Their tough hides protect them from the bite of the cold. They barely give it a second thought- they have other things to think about.

Matsumoto wonders the bone-coloured halls, aware of how her new clothes cling to her body, aware of each shadow flickering across the walls. Gin mostly lets her go where she wants- he knows how crazy she can get, trapped indoors. It would be just as tiring for him, listening to her loud sighs and impatient pacing.

Aizen doesn't care what Matsumoto does- as far as he's concerned; she's Gin's responsibility.

But while Matsumoto knows that she is far from being free, she still feels some pity for Orihime.

She knows that the girl is locked away somewhere here. She can sense the familiar reiatsu, even if she can't completely remember Orihime's face. It worries Matsumoto that she is slowly forgetting more and more of her old self, the faint memories slowly blurring into nothing. It makes her feel like she herself is fading away, too.

But what scares her more is actually seeing Orihime face-to-face.

Because Matsumoto knows how much she has changed, and it frightens her to think of Orihime's reaction. If Orihime will be scared of her.

After all, Orihime is locked away for her own safety. Safe from the Arrancar.

Safe from the monsters like Matsumoto Rangiku.

* * *

Since coming to Las Noches, Matsumoto's normally carefree behaviour has diminished. Hueco Mundo is not a place where it's wise to let your guard down, and Matsumoto is a newly born Arrancar, still getting used to this alien version of herself.

But they watch her. Matsumoto doesn't know whether it's because of her strange behaviour (strange for an Arrancar, anyway) or because of her connection to Gin, but it bothers her. They keep their distance- the risk of upsetting Gin isn't worth speaking to her, but Rangiku can feel their eyes follow her as she explores Las Noches, but when she turns around, all she can see is the backs of their heads.

And as much as she hates it, much as she resents relying on Gin's influence to protect her, it gives her satisfaction to see the Arrancar's eyes dart away from her, looking but too scared to touch.

But she finds herself oddly drawn to the Espada, the same way the other Arrancar are drawn to Aizen. Since her body is already used to reiatsu, she pays its presence no attention. The Espada's reiatsu, however, are new to her, each of them strangely overwhelming. In particular, she can feel the swell of their power best when they are near each other, and it intrigues her.

They are not afraid to look at her.

But she is afraid to look back.

* * *

"Do ya like it here?"

The question takes her by surprise. Matsumoto and Gin have a sort of unspoken agreement that they keep out of each other's way during the lighter hours- that was the way it always used to be, after all. Matsumoto has no particular desire to see Aizen or Tousen again, anyway. She does not dwell on what Gin does when he's with those two, in their own private domain. But under the cover of darkness, she slips into his room, or the room she always finds him in, anyway. She can't tell if Gin thinks of it as his own or not. If she doesn't look for him, he usually doesn't try to find her, and she's never been good at staying away from Gin.

Pondering his question, Matsumoto wonders whether to be honest or not. It doesn't seem that Gin will particularly care either way- he just wants some amusement. Hueco Mundo is a dull place, after all, and he's just had a new toy delivered. Or should that be an upgraded version of a childhood toy?

"Not really, no," answered Matsumoto after a while, feigning indifference.

"Oh?" asks Gin, as though he doesn't know why. "Why's that?"

"It's boring. Replies Matsumoto flippantly, waving a hand at the white room, "I can't believe I ever used to spend my time drinking and avoiding paperwork, as opposed to lying around doing jack shit."

She regrets these words the moment they leave her mouth, hovering in the air. Gin's posture changes slightly when she mentions it, the atmosphere in the room sharpening. Thinking of the Soul Society, no matter how vague her memories are, makes her chest ache. With what, she's not sure. Longing? Loss? Grief?

But it's not the fact she can't remember clearly that bothers her- it's the fact she knows that she was something before this. That there are people moving around with her in their memories, people she can no longer reach, which trouble her.

And still, she doesn't know why she's here. What if all this is some kind of trick? Is this why Shinigami are born with no memories of their past lives- because they'll wonder about who they were before? Does this hold some kind of significance for Gin or is it merely a new game?

But mostly, does any of it matter?

Matsumoto Rangiku has never been the analytical type. She supposes she should be focusing on what this has to do with her, how it will change things, but she finds her thoughts wondering back to Gin. She's tired of trying to figure out what she wants. She thought she wanted to stay with her captain, but then found she missed Gin. And now she's with him, but wants to back at Soul Society to be with her friends, and memories, again. She sighs angrily, blowing her strawberry-blonde bangs out of her face.

Only now does she truly see that getting what you want won't necessarily make you happy.

_You left me in the dark._

* * *

"Why aren't ya happy?" Gin asks her, when she tells him some of her melancholy, the white sheet slipping dangerously down his hip as he turns onto his side and looks down at her.

"I don't know!" Rangiku snaps, close to tears, frustrated without really knowing why. "It's an emotion, I don't know why it does or doesn't exist, Gin! I thought I wanted this, but it's all wrong!"

Matsumoto doesn't fully understand what she means when she says this herself, the words just tumble out, voice threatening to slide into a wail, but Gin pulls him to her, and she shuts her eyes breathes in his scent. It is a scent she has always, always known.

"Ssh, Rangiku," Gin tells her softly, "It ain't like you to get all philosophical. You'll get used to it, I promise,"

Matsumoto blinks then, because when has Gin promised her anything?

"You mean that?" she asks him, cynical and hopeful both at once.

Matsumoto looks straight into his face, and Gin sees the child-Rangiku, just for a second. She can tell, because his omnipresent smile has faded slightly. Maybe he knows just what she's thinking. But then it reappears and he touches her cheek.

"No more secrets, Ran-chan."

He calls her by her old nickname, and it just kills her.

She does not stop to ponder the new meanings of that expression.

* * *

Finally, the long silence that has existed outside of Gin's bedroom is broken.

And surprisingly, it is broken by one of the quietest Espada.

"You knew her,"

Matsumoto turns around to see the green-eyed Espada staring at her. Walking past Orihime's room always seems to prompt a sudden arrival from him. His name rings though her head, _Ulquiorra_.

She has the distinct impression he has been following her.

"Who did I know?" replies Matsumoto, careful to keep her face impassive, even though she is curious.

How could this Espada know something, anything, about her, the old one?

"The woman. Orihime Inoue." He tells her, hands in his pockets, "She talks about you a lot. It is irritating."

Matsumoto feels something wrench at her heart when she imagines Orihime trapped in her little room, like a fairytale princess, hoping that her friend is doing well. The thoughts only somebody as pure-hearted as she is would be capable of.

"I don't remember much of her," Matsumoto says, without thinking.

She is worried she has handed Ulquiorra some kind of weapon, revealing the lack of familiarity to her old life, but she seems to have said what he expected her to say.

"You are partly the reason she is here," he tells her, turning away. "I suppose it saves the effort of having to kill you later on."

"What do you mean?" snaps Matsumoto, suddenly angry and she suddenly doesn't care about being careful with what she says. She just wants to know.

Ulquiorra appears unperturbed or bothered by her outburst.

"She seems to believe her friends will come save her." He sounds bored as he reports this, as though it has nothing to do with him. "If one of them is already one of us, it makes it easier to crush that hope."

Matsumoto only watches him in disbelief as he begins to walk away. She doesn't even react as he adds, just before disappearing,

"Such hope was doomed from the start."

Deeply troubled, the blonde pivoted on her heel and headed in the opposite direction she was going, her footsteps pounding on the white floors. There is no resentment or pity in her anymore. Kurosaki Ichigo's face flickers in her mind's eye.

All Matsumoto hopes – _wishes_- is that Orihime's hope is not quite as doomed as Ulquiorra says it is.

She doesn't want it to be too late for her.

* * *

Gin is walking down the corridor, not really thinking of anything in particular, when he hears a familiar, almost shrill drawl,

"Ne, Ulquiorra! I heard you talked to that Arrancar yesterday,"

Gin pauses. He can only think of one not-Espada Arrancar that Nnoitra would be particularly interested in.

"I have spoken to more then one, Nnoitra," replied Ulquiorra flatly, pretending to be ignorant of what is blatantly obvious. It is something about Ulquiorra that both amuses and irritates Gin.

"You know." Nnoitra presses, voice sliding into a suggestive purr, "Her. What's her name? The one with that body…Matsumoto."

Gin is just around the corner from the Espada, but he can still see Nnoitra's leer.

He doesn't like the way he said her name.

"The one that got killed by-"

Nnoitra abruptly stops talking as the Espada finally spot Gin, who is standing there casually, and they know he has heard everything.

Gin says nothing to them. He simply stands there, smiling.

Nnoitra avoids his slit-eyes, and Gin knows that his message has been very clear, without even having to say a damn word.

Gin smiles to himself.

* * *

Matsumoto is learning more about being an Arrancar, mostly about living in a perpetual state of terror, senses seemingly always hyperaware of everything. She learns how Arrancar always seem to have almost a pain, deep down in their gut, which is like a hunger that they can't fill up. And about how Arrancar are, despite living within groups, alone.

And she learns about the Espada.

Most of them ignore her, which she likes. The stronger Espada consider her beneath their notice, the weaker apparently feel threatened enough by Gin to decide to leave her alone.

But one Espada doesn't care about status or about Gin.

"Come back again, have you, Blondie?"

Matsumoto leans against the slight archway of the room, a sultry expression on her face. She doesn't really object to the nickname, but it feels almost strange to hear somebody give her one, after a long period of only speaking to Gin.

"Of course," she replies, which makes Grimmjow smirk, "There's nothing else to do here, right?"

"Heh. Cocky bitch."

"Oh yeah?"

Matsumoto walks toward him, slowly, almost enjoying the way his eyes rake up and down her body. Gin is not prone to the same overt-lustfulness that Grimmjow seems to enjoy exhibiting. She wishes she could stop comparing everybody to Gin. When she reaches the blue-haired Espada, she slides her knee onto the bed and cocks an eyebrow.

"Look who's talking."

Grimmjow would usually punish a lowly Arrancar such as herself for talking back to him like that, and she knows it. But with Matsumoto, he seems to almost enjoy her devil-may-care attitude, even encourage it. Perhaps it's because it reminds him of himself, or it's been a while since somebody who was not Aizen or an Espada tried it with him.

That's something Matsumoto likes about Grimmjow- aside from the sex, he doesn't ask anything from her, doesn't think of new ways to keep her on her toes. He seems perfectly content with coming and going as he pleases, or letting her, as the case may be. Maybe he doesn't see any point in testing her, because he is stronger then she is and they both know it.

And anyway, if he did, she probably wouldn't come back.

When Matsumoto lies on her back beside the Espada, panting, staring almost wistfully up at the ceiling while Grimmjow smirks, pleased with himself, she realises that this is one of the few things in Hueco Mundo that makes her feel alive. More alive then she has felt in a very long time.

When she presses her lips to Grimmjow's, feeling his Hollow mask on her face, she wonders if he feels the same.

Strangely enough, she almost hopes he does.

_I'm always in this twilight. In the shadows of your heart.  
_

* * *

Matsumoto's visits to Grimmjow do not go unnoticed. Gin seems to be somehow quieter then usual, things left unsaid when he speaks that hang in the air like smoke. Matsumoto speculates he resents the visits, or is angry that she has forgotten him.

She doesn't apologise.

For all she knows, he could have had other Arrancar to satisfy him before fate dropped her back into his life.

She resents him, too. She is still angry.

She had never said that she had forgiven him for leaving.

* * *

When Gin withdraws from her, though, they both know it's only a matter of time before she will crack and go to him.

In a way, Matsumoto is relieved this is not a secret. It makes it seem like their silent argument is less real, like they are only doing it because they know they are expected to.

But when she goes to the room and sees the bed is empty, her immediate thought is to turn away and go back to her own room, or anybody else's.

Just as she turns away, the door creaks and Gin glides out from behind him, ghostlike in his white robes. Matsumoto can't decide if he looks like a devil or an angel.

A devil would be more appropriate.

"You've been avoiding me, Gin." Matsumoto accuses, unable to think of any other way to break the silence.

"I've always been in tha' habit o' disappearin'," replies Gin airily, almost smugly.

"And I guess I've always been in the habit of following." Mutters Matsumoto, a bitter taste in her mouth.

The words conjure up an image of some kind of loyal hound, trailing forlornly after its indifferent master.

Matsumoto hates the idea of answering to anyone like that.

As if sensing the resentment that tinge her words, Gin's pale fingers trace her collarbone, slowly travelling up her neck to her face, gently touching the solid bone of her mask. The touch makes her shiver, despite herself.

Gin smiles.

"Guess I thought ya were mad at me," he confesses slyly, "S'pose I've been a bit neglectful of ya, as of late."

"Yeah…" Matsumoto says, just as softly as Gin, "Maybe we were both wrong."

"Then I'll make it up to ya,"

And when Gin kisses her, his tongue pushing into her mouth, cool, wanting, Matsumoto knows that she is gone, that any distance between them has already been discarded. She kisses him back, fiercely, biting down slightly in his lips, tasting blood.

As though this is a secret password to her hunger, Matsumoto feels it rip through her body, demanding, insatiable. An angry, almost desperate growl escapes from deep within her throat, reminding her of her once-loved companion, Haineko. She hasn't tried out her sword yet. One new body is bad enough, but the idea of seeing herself as a released Arrancar, like one of those strange animal-like creatures is just too much for her to handle.

But she can't let herself think about the past, or she'll be lost. She can't remember. Gin's body seems eerily cold, but Rangiku doesn't care. He's always been like that, or maybe it's her that is too warm, she has too much fire inside her body to ever keep cool. Gin's snow-coloured skin feels good against her own, like alcohol sliding down her throat. Something forbidden and instantly gratifying. She claws at his shirt, her spring blue eyes boring into his face. He smiles and obliges her, tugging her over to the bed. They lie down, not pausing as they rapidly remove their clothes, as though the garments burn them.

She misses the cold, his cold. A tiny part of her brain whispers a name, which she drowns out by giving herself in, giving in to what she actually wants, what she _craves_- letting Gin have her, have all of her, because that's what he wants, isn't it?

But later on, when she lies back on the now-warm sheets, the name comes back, even though she is drifting off to sleep, it clings on, tenaciously. A memory that refuses to be completely forgotten.

_Hitsugaya-taicho..._

"Do you remember," Gin asks Matsumoto one night, breath hot in her ear, twisting a strand of amber hair around his little finger, "How ya died? The one who killed ya in the end?"

* * *

"No," Matsumoto tells him, feeling like an invisible fist is squeezing her heart, "I don't."

"Most Arrancar don't," Gin agrees easily.

And, forgetting for a moment, Matsumoto opens her mouth to contradict him, to tell him she's not an Arrancar, but then she remembers again where she is and closes it again. The words wither away between her lips. When she's with Gin, he makes her forget.

She decides to just be quiet for a little bit. To just _shut the fuck up_, because she's tired of trying to remember, or not remember as the case may be. Gin is silent too, but Matsumoto knows better then to let her guard down just because neither of them are talking. All his silence means is that he's biding his time. She hates that she has to think about him this way, but she hates even more that he does nothing to change it. How there is always another meaning to everything he says and does. Like a house with too many doors.

"Why does it matter, anyway?" blurts out Matsumoto suddenly, without really meaning to, but she can feel the anger lancing her words like the tail of a rattlesnake, "It's not like remembering would make me any less dead. It doesn't change anything."

Gin looks slightly surprised by her vehemence, but he doesn't relinquish his thoughtful grip on her hair.

"It wouldn't change anythin', then, if I told ya who did do it?"

Matsumoto realises this is a test- Gin has notices how different she is in Hueco Mundo, and that she is somehow pulling away. He needs her, more then he'd ever actually admit. Matsumoto wonders if this is another cruel twist of fate, like a Greek tragedy. She is half expecting him to smile and tell her he did it, even though he wasn't there when she died. But to her surprised, Gin is not smiling. On the contrary, he looks almost sad.

Gin smiles, as usual, but it fades almost immediately, like a bulb rapidly losing energy.

"The one who killed ya," he says, slowly, letting the strand of her go, hand falling to his side, "Was the one you called taicho."

Rangiku is too numb to cry. She just stares at Gin, who does not look like he enjoyed delivering that little piece of news.

And she remembers.

_The Espada smirked as one of the long white tentacles on his body squeezed Matsumoto tightly, making the blonde let out a short gasp. His name comes back to her, like a stone making ripples in water: Luppi. _

"Matsumoto!"

Spikes aiming for her face, Ikkaku and Yumichika- how can she have forgotten them? – yelling her name. Her captain, lying several feet below her, green eyes staring at nothing. Luppi, despite his appearance, had been stronger then they had predicted. He taunts her and her comrades, and Matsumoto never let somebody badmouth her friends without retaliation.

She remembers the squeezing getting tighter, her vision becoming dotted with black spots as her body struggled to remain conscious. She cursed herself, hating that Urahara had to save her and angry that she was just as quickly caught again, like a particularly slow goldfish.

She remembers how her captain created pillars of ice, cold gaze piercing into the Espada for daring to touch his lieutenant, for daring to lay a hand on his friends.

He didn't mean to kill her.

But Luppi had panicked at the last moment, dragging her in with him, just as Hitsugaya-taicho lunged for his throat.

She remembers Ikkaku shouting, voice raw with desperation and rage, Yumichika calling wildly for Urahara to find someone- ANYONE- to heal her, before it was too late.

But mostly, painfully, she remembers her captain's eyes widening as he realised what his sword- what HE- had done. She recalls how Luppi's body vanished into nothingness, how she fell and Hitsugaya-taicho held her, even though she was much bigger then he was. She is reminded of how he sobbed her name, looking the age everyone else saw him as he told her she'd be okay, ordering her to get up…

Crying as he was apologising, begging her to forgive him, cursing himself with a hatred she didn't know he possessed, at what killing the enemy had cost. He promised her that she'd be okay,, that she would live, that he would make sure she lived.

Matsumoto imagines that it must be Hitsugaya-taicho who told everyone of her death. She imagines him telling everyone, about what happened. Matsumoto cannot bear to think of the look on Kira's face. To hear somebody confess it to Hinamori. The silence that would pass over Renji, The grim expression in Shuuhei's eyes.

For them to know how Matsumoto Rangiku died.

But this time, her captain could not fulfil what he promised.

And that, strangely, was what made her the most sorry.

Gin watches Matsumoto stare at him, and she is grateful his eyes are not open. She does not want to see her own pitiful expression looking back at her.

"I'm sorry, Ran-chan," he whispers.

Rangiku doesn't believe he's sorry for telling her, because he knew that by hearing that, it would shatter her secret longing to be returned to Soul Society. It certainly explains why Ulquiorra spoke to her, that day.

No. She knows why Gin is apologising,

He's just sorry that it had to be him. That he had to be the one to tell her.

So is she.

But Gin, as usual, surprises her.

"I never wanted ya to die, Ran-chan," he tells her softly, and his voice is so devoid of anything besides regret that she believes him without question. it is nice to believe him.

"I never wanted you to leave," she murmurs.

This time, she does cry.

Neither of them speaks after that. What's done is done and they know they cannot change that Gin did leave or that Matsumoto did die.

All they can do now is look ahead.

* * *

When the war is over, Aizen and his loyal Espada slain, Matsumoto is not at all surprised to find that Gin has somehow managed to avoid being ripped apart like his former master.

He has always been good at surviving.

"Gin," Matsumoto asks him without preamble, while they watch the chaos below them, all of it appearing so dramatic and self-absorbed from their perch in the sky, like a God from those Greek tragedies, "Where will we go now?"

They both know they could never return to Soul Society. For Gin, it's because his betrayal would always linger in the backs of people's minds, no matter what he did to redeem himself. For Matsumoto, it's because she has changed too much to indulge her old memories. She is not the same person that they remember, inside or out.

"Wherever we want to, Ran-chan," replies Gin, calmly confident in his own whims.

Matsumoto is satisfied with this.

She knows something for certain now, and it is this certainty she clings to, determined not to fall apart or splinter into pieces. No matter where Gin goes, no matter whom he chooses to follow, no matter what he is doing, he will take her with him.

Matsumoto Rangiku will not be left behind again.

_I knew that somehow, I could find my way back, then I heard your heart beating. You were in the darkness too. _

_So I stayed in the darkness with you._

* * *

Reviews would be wonderful.


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